


In Times Between

by Exalted_Dawn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: But until then, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Probably gonna end up being a two shot, Some a bit more spicy than others lol, also cause of the high likelyhood that the next chap will be about said canoodling, and a cute proposal, enjoy your midnight make out scenes, lots of kisses, pre-landsmeet, probably gonna update this to an E rating when that happens lol, tagged as M for mentions of canoodling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29535738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exalted_Dawn/pseuds/Exalted_Dawn
Summary: “Marry me.”The words were hardly more than a whisper, and yet, so heavy were they with adoration and reverence, Shaesa found herself unable to breathe under the weight of them. Her head whipped up and Alistair stared back at her, honeyed eyes searching out her own, smug grin turned all too tender.***A short fic about the times between battle and strife, where Alistair and Tabris fall a little more in love with each other.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	In Times Between

# Part 1

### In Times Between

“Maker’s Breath-” Alistair blew out a sigh, stirring his hair in the process. “I had always wondered where you got your inhuman constitution. It seems tonight I’ve finally found my answer.”

Shaesa Tabris stifled a chuckle as the door to her childhood home closed quietly behind her. The night’s air nipped at her face, threatening to turn her cheeks just as rosy as Alistair’s drink-flushed ones. Denerim’s autumns had always been cold and biting, but they seemed even more so now in the wake of leaving the fire-warmed interior of her childhood home. 

Inside, she could still hear the muffled prattle of conversation between her father and Shianni as they began another round of Wicked Grace, their drunken voices carrying through the open window. The sound of their hushed laughter warmed her, staving off what bits of evening’s chill that had managed to work its way past the burn of the mead in her gut. 

She smiled. “Perhaps that’s because I’m an elf, and not a human. Or have you drank so much that you forgot? I should have warned you about Shianni’s love of liquid courage. She’s got the stomach to drink half of the Alienage under the table if she put her mind to it. I bet she could even give Oghren a run for his money.”

The thought stirred a small chuckle from her.

“Oh- no, no no,” Alistair shook his head, waving his hands in front of him. His cheeks were red with alcohol and the night’s chill. “ _No_. No more bets for tonight! I’ve already done a good job of emptying my wallet at the card table. Another lost bet and I’d lose the shirt off my back.”

Shaesa could feel her grin widen. Feeling emboldened by the darkness and quiet the night granted her, she drew close to her fellow Warden, slinging her arms around his middle. “You know… I rather like the sound of that.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at him for emphasis. 

Catching on quickly, Alistair mirrored her goofy grin, eyes bright and adoring. He pulled her closer and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her brow. “Hey, that’s not fair! The eyebrow waggle is _my_ thing and you have NO RIGHT looking so much cuter than me while doing it.” 

“What can I say?” Shaesa shrugged, leaning further into his chest and reveling in the heat it provided against the cold, damp Ferelden air. “I had a pretty decent teacher.”

“You minx,” Alistair huffed. “You best not forget it, either. Or else, I’ll have no choice except to _punish you-”_

Before she could properly react, the grip around her waist tightened and Alistair’s fingers found their mark just below her ribs. Shaesa squealed. Loudly.

Shaesa immediately moved to wriggle free of his hold, but Alistair’s grip was firm on her as he tickled her sides without remorse. His laughter echoed in her ear as he bent over her, pulling her back to his chest every time she nearly managed to break free. 

Stinging air filled her lungs in small, disparate gasps that made her chest ache. “O-Okay! I yield!” she wheezed between giggles, desperate for relief. “P-Please stopp- I promise I won’t-!”

She could practically hear the smirk in her ear. 

“Won’t, what?” he teased. The fingers at her side did not cease. If anything, they redoubled their efforts.

“ _FORGET_!” she spat out. “K-Keep the title of ‘B-Best Eyebrow Wiggles’! I-It’s yours!”

Shaesa sent a silent prayer to the Maker as she finally felt Alistair’s grip on her loosen slightly, allowing her time to find her breath again. She sagged against the soft plains of Alistair’s chest, thankful that he hadn’t released her completely to the mercy of her now entirely too shaky legs.

“You… are… evil.” 

Alistair shot her a self-satisfied grin. “And you love me for it.”

Unable and unwilling to refute that, she allowed herself to melt into the arms of her love for a while longer. The relative quiet of the sleeping Alienage was a much needed change of pace from the rest of their stay so far in Denerim, and Shaesa found herself unwilling to relinquish this precious bit of privacy so soon.

Back at the Arl’s estate, the two could hardly find any time to breathe, let alone relax together. It seemed as though they were always in the company of others. There was always something that needed doing or someone who needed consulting, and finding time for one another had become near impossible. Eamon was always at Alistair’s hip, urging the young man for answers that he didn’t yet have. Shaesa didn’t think that he knew about Alistair’s relationship with her— either that or he simply didn’t care— but the man had been pushing for a political marriage with Queen Anora before they’d even freed the woman from captivity. It was a sore subject for the both of them, and Shaesa and Alistair had been dancing around it for days, unwilling to broach the topic for fear of it souring the comparatively new love they’d been fostering.

She knew that he was considering the Kingship. Despite his many vocal protests, Alistair was a good man with a strong sense of duty, and the meaning of rulership hadn’t been lost on him. Should he take the throne, he’d be in the perfect position to enact a lot of good change for this country; change that was desperately needed. But neither of them knew what that position demanded of them as a couple. 

The thought of losing his warmth or his laugh… of losing _him_. It scared her more than any darkspawn could. 

Shaesa shoved those thoughts into a far corner of her mind where she needn't think about them, at least for now. Not when he was here and in front of her still. 

She stepped out of Alistair’s hold, taking up his hand in hers. “Let’s take a walk for a bit. I think the alcohol is getting to me, and I could use some fresh air.”

They strolled the backstreets of Denerim’s Alienage in companionable silence, lost in the maze of its twisting alleys and paths. The buildings, usually so alive with the bustle of people during the day, now seemed like sleeping beasts; groaning and swaying with each gust of wind as they stood sentry in the night. Familiar sights became nearly foreign to her when wrapped in a curtain of fog and shadow. 

It was odd, but not so much so that she was in a rush to return to the estate just yet. 

So they wandered. With every turn and pass, Shaesa found herself pointing out the things of her childhood in the Alienage. She showed Alistair the support beam marred with countless scars from where she’d practiced her blade work, and her favorite hiding spot where she went when it was time to do chores. Every reminder, a small bright spot against the dinginess of the squalor. 

“So what of the tree then? I’m impressed that one so big could grow in the middle of the city.”

They were standing in the middle of the Alienage’s square, staring up at the towering oak tree; it’s leaves slowly drifting down around them as the branches swayed in the wind. 

“Ahhhh, the _vhenadahl_. The Tree of the People.” She raised a hand to it’s withered bark, running her fingers over the well-worn grooves. “The jewel of every Alienage, or so my father tells me. Apparently they were grown as a monument to our Elven ancestry, so that we wouldn’t lose our ties to what we once were. Any celebrations or formal occasions for the Alienage are held under this tree. You could say it’s what binds us as a community- a symbol of our people putting down _roots_.” She chuckled, repeating the horrible joke her father had told her when she was little. 

“The Jewel of the Alienage, hm? It’s awe-inspiring how something so strong and beautiful could grow in the face of adversity,” Alistair’s hand fell over her own, pressing the ridges of bark further into her skin. “Reminds me of you, a bit.” 

Alistair nuzzled his face into the spot between her shoulder and neck, stirring her auburn hair with every exhale. 

Shaesa could feel her heart tighten in her chest, her face reddening at the gentleness of his admission. She was glad Alistair couldn’t see her face right now, or else he would surely laugh with pride. “Flatterer. You’ve been spending far too much time with Zevran.”

She could feel his deep chuckle reverberate against her shoulder and back, sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

“Nonsense. I assure you that I speak only the truth.” He turned her in his grasp so that her back was against the trunk of the tree and she was staring up at him. He took a strand of auburn hair that had fallen into her face and gingerly tucked it behind her ear, taking the time to stroke the scar that sat high on her cheekbone with the back of his fingers as he did. Shaesa wondered at how, with a single lingering caress, he could disarm her so completely. May Andraste preserve her. “Truly. I meant every word.”

And then he was kissing her. Or she, him. She wasn’t sure who initiated first, but with each passing moment she found herself caring less and less. She leaned into the kiss, savoring the taste of him on her mouth. Maker, but how she’d missed this. He tasted like mead and honey; a heady mixture that was all too intoxicating for her own good.

He groaned into her mouth, pinning her against the tree with his weight as he deepened the kiss. His hands fell to either side of her hips, crushing her to him with unashamed desire. Andraste’s uncovered ass, were they actually doing this in the middle of the Alienage? When she said she wanted him to strip earlier, she hadn’t actually thought-

She broke the kiss— and that juicy chain of thought— abruptly, pushing against Alistair’s chest so that she might have some room to breathe. “By the Maker, what has gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining, but-” Alistair hardly ever initiated such blatant public affection, especially so… willingly.

Alistair’s face grew impossibly redder, his blush reaching up to the small points of his ears. Briefly, she could see a myriad of emotions flash across his face. Hesitation. Embarrassment. Guilt. Wanting. There one second, but gone the next. He was hiding something from her. Or trying to, at least. 

Shaesa dropped her playful attitude, gentle concern weighing on her in its stead. She brought a hand up to his face, her thumbs rubbing circles over the stubble at Alistair’s jaw. “You’ve been acting… differently, since earlier today. More affectionate and open with me. It’s been nice and I’m certainly not put off by the attention, but it just seems a bit out of nowhere and I was just wondering if there was a reason behind it…?” She allowed the sentence to trail off, leaving the unspoken question between them. 

Alistair whined softly, letting his head fall to her shoulder before pulling away entirely. Immediately, Shaesa felt the loss of his heat, and mourned it. He backed away, putting both hands to his face in an attempt to will away the flush. “So you noticed then. Of course you did. You _always_ notice.”

He was muttering to himself now, pacing back and forth in front of her like some frustrated animal. The warmth from before was now gone completely, smothered by a heavier confusion and worry. “Noticed _what_? What’s wrong? You know you could tell me anything on your mind.”

There was a moment where he seemed to be debating her offer, caught between giving in and deflecting her concerns with his usual mask of levity. However, as the moment stretched between them, and neither moved to speak, it became quickly apparent to the both of them that Alistair had lost his chance to play this off. With no small amount of resignation, Alistair huffed, lips pouting slightly as he gathered his thoughts. “It’s just- Agh, how do I put this? It’s just that I feel like I’ve told you all there is to tell about myself, but there’s still so much I don’t know about you… You don’t talk to me about yourself a lot. Which is okay! I don’t want to be pushy or anything, but- I guess I just... I don’t know-”

Confusion marred her face as she scrunched her brow, perplexed. “Alistair? Where is this coming from? What did you mean by ‘I don’t-?”

“Your engagement.” 

Those two words sat heavy like a stone between them, immovable. 

“Oh.” A pause. “Alistair, I told you earlier today that-”

“I know, I know! It was a disaster and meant nothing to you. I _know that_ ,” he groaned, tugging at his hair in frustration. “It’s just- Maker, this is going to sound so stupid. I guess I was just… disappointed? Let down? I mean, you come along and you stir up all these new… _things_ in me. This is the first time I’ve felt so deeply for anyone and I’ve had so many new experiences with you, but it always felt like you were leading me around by the tip of my nose. You are so- er, for lack of a subtler implication- _romantically accomplished_ and I guess I was hoping that…”

He grew quiet, shoulders slumping in defeat and head hanging low. He looked so far away, just then. Two steps and Shaesa was wrapping her arms around him, pulling him back to her. She buried her face into his chest, feeling the erratic beating of his heart under her ear. 

Slowly, his arms raised to wrap around her, drawing her deeper into the hug. A deep sigh- in and then out. A steadying breath. He cleared his throat. “I was hoping that I’d be the first man to ask for your hand.”

Oh.

_Oh._

All thoughts came to a screeching halt in her head. She looked up at Alistair, deep brown eyes wide with wonder. Had he just-?

Alistair didn’t give her anytime to respond, words flowing freely now that he’d already broken the dam. “I know that sounds foolish and I was an idiot to feel lesser by the fact, but knowing that you’d nearly sworn yourself to another made me feel a bit insecure. I don’t want to lose you. You’re amazing and wonderful and- and just far _too good_ for someone like me and I’m scared that you’ll wake up one day and realize that there are other people, _more experienced_ people, that can treat you better than I can. That can offer you more than I can. And with this whole Anora business going on - and you’ve been so _quiet_ about it - I guess I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same way I did. Maybe you never wanted to get married at all, and that’s completely fine- but when I found out about the fact that you were already engaged, I thought-” 

His voice cracked. 

Before she could even register what was happening, her hands were on either side of his face and she was kissing him. Deeply. Fully. Without abandon. She pulled him by the collar of his shirt until she no longer had to stand on her toes to reach him; hands drifting from his jaw to the back of his neck and pulling him so impossibly close so that he might never leave her. So that there was no room for doubt in his mind.

She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes. She was crying, she knew. But whether it was from relief or elation or guilt at making him feel this way, she couldn’t say.

Alistair clung to her like she was his only lifeline, one hand coming up to grip her hair while the other fisted in the fabric at the back of her shirt, locking her to him. Between breaths, he whispered her name reverently against her lips like a quiet chant. His mouth sought hers out time and time again, searching out the reassurance that she wanted him as much as he did her. 

And she granted it to him, fully. 

Their tongues danced and she gasped as Alistair pulled roughly at her bottom lip with his teeth. This kiss wasn’t gentle like so many of the ones they shared in the privacy of their tent. No, this was some other beast, one that drove them to biting and tugging and _devouring._ Shaesa felt a strange greed bubble up in her; a selfish, territorial feeling that could rival any dragon’s.

She loved him, more than she’d loved anything. Damn politics and damn the Blight, but she would not sacrifice this- _him-_ for their wars.

She pulled away, dizzy with emotion and lack of air. She pressed her forehead against Alistair’s; the two of them panting for breath in the scant space between them. The night air burned her lungs and throat, but she drew it in hungrily, desperate to regain her senses so that she could speak.

“You- _Stupid,_ ” she finally uttered, her voice raw and tender. She offered him a wobbly smile. “ _Of course_ I don’t want you to marry Anora- but what was I supposed to say? I may be a Grey Warden now, but before that I was an elf from the slums… a _knife-ear_ ,” She breathed, the word sounding too much like a confession. Alistair stiffened, anger making the muscles of his shoulders go rigid. She could see a rebuttal already forming on his tongue, but she silenced him with a meaningful look and a single, but firm shake of the head no. His protectiveness warmed her, and she made sure appreciation for it was plain in her eyes, but that was not the conversation she needed to have with him right now. “She’s the Queen, Alistair, and _you’re_ the rightful heir to the throne. So many people are pushing for you to take your place as King of Ferelden... Who am I to force my own desires on you when you already carry those of so many others?”

Alistair’s answer came quick and without hesitation. 

“You are-” Alistair captured her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing first the heel of her palm before moving lower to mouth at her inner wrist. “-the only one who’s opinion I truly care about in this whole mess. Which is why I’ve been having a _particularly_ hard time coming to a decision, what with your astoundingly stubborn show of restraint. Or at least, it had been before that borderline _scandalous_ display of tongue-tying we engaged in just moments ago.” He waggled his eyebrows a bit, the curl of his lips not entirely without a sort of smug satisfaction.

That startled a small laugh from her, though it came out sounding more like a choked hiccup. How this man thought she could ever want another partner over him was beyond her. Perhaps she needed to have Wynne look him over for head injuries, but that could wait for later, she supposed. She shook her head disbelievingly. “I love you, Alistair. If I could have my choice of anyone in this world, I would choose you time and time again, without hesitation. _Fenedhis,_ If the Maker HIMSELF descended and called me to His side, _I would still choose you._ You asked for my opinion, you will have it. I don’t want you to marry another, nor do I want you to be King. Protecting the future is meaningless to me if that means you can’t stay by my side. And that may make me the most selfish person in Ferelden, but it is how I truly feel.”

She took a steadying breath, fighting the urge to bury her face in his chest and never resurface. 

“Marry me.”

The words were hardly more than a whisper, and yet, so heavy were they with adoration and reverence, Shaesa found herself unable to breathe under the weight of them. Her head whipped up and Alistair stared back at her, honeyed eyes searching out her own, smug grin turned all too tender. 

Beneath her fingers, she could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest; the strong pounding of his heart grounding her to this moment and to him. The whelm of sudden emotion unlocked by those two simple words threaten to break her completely. A breathy noise, something between a laugh and sob, tore free from her throat; the sound as best of an affirmation she could manage against the swift and vicious surge of love that threatened to overtake her. 

She fell into him, relishing in the suffocating heat of his embrace as he pulled her close. Distantly, she could hear the warm rumble of Alistair’s voice in her ear, and she must have said something in return, though she couldn’t begin to fathom what, because then he was kissing her again and she was lost in him. 

She wasn’t sure how long the two of them stayed like that beneath the _vhenadahl_ but by the time they parted, Shaesa could once again hardly find it in herself to stand. It seemed Alistair was beginning to make a bad habit of leaving her breathless. She tucked herself further against his chest, following the sway of him as he leaned back against the trunk of the tree to help better support both their weight. 

He hummed to himself, languid and content as he stoked patterns into the small of her back through her blouse. For once it seemed he had nothing to say— happy, instead, to share in the careful silence they had built together. 

She’d nearly fallen asleep in his arms when she was stirred awake by the purr of Alistair’s voice beneath her ear.

“Hm? Pardon, love, I didn’t catch that.” She blearily tilted her head up to study him better.

A small, reverent smile dancing upon Alistair’s lips, his eyes shining with barely concealed amusement. “Sooooooooooo...Not even the Maker, hm?” 

Shaesa blinked once, then twice, not quite understanding his question. “...I’m sorry?”

At her confusion, his grin curled into something a bit more playful and decidedly more _Alistair._ He pressed a firm and wet kiss to her forehead and pulled away smiling from ear to ear. “ _You_ said that even if the Maker _Himself_ came down from His big golden throne in the sky and bent his holy knee in front of you, you would still pick me. That’s a pretty big claim to be throwing around, you know? Honestly, I’d bet the near heresy of such a declaration would make the Revered Mother back in Bourneshire swoon!” 

He chuckled to himself; his laughter infectious as it reverberated through him and spread into her. She beamed up at him, practically vibrating with poorly contained affection. She cocked a brow playfully. “Oh? You ‘bet’ do you? Because I specifically remember you mention something about stripping half bare if you lose one more wager, and THAT sounds like a particularly hard stake to prove. With the Revered Mother being in Bourneshire and all…”

She let the sentence trail off, leaving the blatant innuendo dangling in hopes that her love would take the bait.

And true to form, Alistair did not disappoint.

“Hm, yes- I _did_ say something like that, didn’t I? Well, as my lady so aptly pointed out, seeing as how I can’t _possibly_ prove such a thing and haven’t a sovereign to my name, I suppose I owe you the shirt off of my back. Would you like it now or later?”

Shaesa caught her lip between her teeth, biting down on her excitement. She would hazard that he’d be losing a bit more than his shirt tonight. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that offer, perhaps we should return to Arl Eamon’s estate and settle our wages there? As much as I’m sure they’d appreciate the view, I’m not too fond of sharing you with the rest of the Alienage.”

Alistair barked with laughter, his breath fogging in the cold. Reluctantly, he released her, instead taking her hand and leading her through the winding alleyways back towards the Market District and Eamon’s estate. 

“Hmmmm, tonight? Well I suppose I’m not in a position to argue... Though that means I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to let Eamon know of my decision to renounce my claim to the throne. Not that I actually _wanted_ the damned thing anyway,” he was quick to correct, “which you would have known if you’d asked, might I add. But after tonight, I had every intention of marching straight back home and waking Anora and her bunch of groggy-eyed noblemen from their beds so that I can publicly denounce myself and be done with this farce. Shame, really. But I suppose it can wait if it means not upsetting the missus~” 

He practically purred out the last word, entirely too pleased with himself and his clever little rant. 

Sheasa rolled her eyes playfully, unable to hide the silly smile that flitted across her face at Alistair’s words. 

She supposed she would let him get his ribbing in, just this once. After all, once the Blight was finally ended, she would have plenty of time to get back at him. 

She huffed lightly, warmth spreading through her at the thought. “...Royal bastard.”

He grinned wolfishly and winked back at her. “Only until tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody! Look at me, posting something that isn't Chrobin for once lolol (Though for my regular readers, new chapters are coming, I promise) Be proud XD
> 
> I've recently gotten into Dragon Age hell, and surprise to no one, immediately fell for the beefy dork. So here's a one shot about him and my Warden, Shaesa Tabris, and how I imagined the moment they chose each other over the crown :) 
> 
> ALSO! As I mentioned in the tags, this is very likely to become a two shot with a bit more, um, canoodling in the second part, so stay tuned for that! 
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! This is my first time writing Alistair and I'd love some feedback :D And thank you to Subatomic Grapes for being an excellent beta reader, despite knowing next to nothing about Dragon Age XD


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